Na caverna da Weta (Parte 1) In the cave of the Weta (Part 1)

A bronze model of a Cave Weta

First I should explain the title. I've noticed that my little blog has a couple of new followers, one two from lovely warm and sunny Brazil.  Welcome. (Boas-vindas).  Although why a lovely artistic type should want to read my feverish postings is almost beyond me. Maybe Tania and Gaia are attracted to my attempts at strained humour?  Or maybe just my exquisitely researched images?  I don't know, so if Tania or Gaia reads this, they may wish to leave a comment. (Eu não sei, então se Tania ou Gaia lê isso, eles podem querer deixar um comentário.)


However, back to the Weta Cave,

My Beloved had arranged for me to be the taxi driver and pick up 2 of her friends and to take us all down to the Bus Stop outside St. Pats. Silverstream.   Seemingly, her local Tai Chi group, which uses our local Marae (A Maori meeting house)  had combined with another club (The Brown Owl Book Club.  Honestly, I couldn't make these things up) for the visit to the special effects company Weta Workshop, who did all the effects and models for many films, including Sir Peter Jackson's Lord of the Rings.

She hadn't actually told me in advance that I was the designated taxi driver (although she said I had, therefore I was wrong, and had simply forgotten it, which showed (obviously) a lack of attention and respect.  She said. ) so this meant that the little plan I had of having a few beers at lunchtime was out the window, as I never drink and drive.


So we arrived at the Bus Stop and waited.

My Beloved mentioned that the bus might just be a little late, as the tour group was frequently delayed by :

• Members forgetting which time/place/day/year the bus was due.
• Remembering the tour, but having to hurriedly return to their homes due to bladder pressure/forgotten medication/broken Zimmers
• Urgent stops along the way at public conveniences/pharmacies and at one never-to-be-forgotten instance the Hutt Hospital due to a suspected stroke.  (it wasn't, but the poor sod had partaken of too much whisky before the trip, and this had caused an unexpected descent into unconsciousness when "the cratur" had reacted badly to 1 of the 15 medications he was taking)

A Zimmer

However, the bus turned up only a few minutes late, and after we had fought our way through the barrier of Zimmers, walking sticks, cast (broken leg when her Zimmer had suffered metal fatigue), bags of spare clothes, incontinence packs and bottles of embrocation, we found our seats and were away. For 5 minutes. Then we had to stop at a Petrol Station for an urgent toilet stop.


It was quite nice being driven into Wellington for a change and I quite enjoyed the views, until that is, my eyes began to water from the vapours of the combined lotions/embrocations/eucalyptus/ammonia which soon permeated the air in the bus.


We were making good time, when we stopped unexpectedly outside the Roxy cinema in Miramar.  It was only about 1 km from the Weta buildings, and at first I couldn't understand why we had stopped. It turned out that the organisers had allowed an extra 45 minutes for unexpected delays (see list above) and we hadn't used it.  Because we were booked into the Weta Cave at a fixed time, we had to do something.

The something turned out to be the Roxy cinema, newly refurbished in an opulent 1930s style.  It had been opened in March and was still quite an attraction.  It certainly attracted the bus party.  They poured of the bus (literally true whan a bag burst on the way down the steps) ( I won't mention what type of bag. *shudder*) into the cinema, making bee-lines for the toilets and the coffee kiosk..  Why oh why do people who have trouble staying away from the toilets for more than ½ hour, drink copious amounts of coffee and tea?  Have these people ever heard of the term DIURETIC?




While my Beloved was involved with talking to her friends, I sneaked out for a brisk walk in the Miramar air.  Don't get me wrong, they are lovely people, I just wanted to get some fresh air into my eucalyptus-laden lungs, and to see something young again. 


It was lovely, as was the young thing walking down the street in a very fetching mini skirt and high boots.

To be continued.....
De ser continuado ......